Why archaeology matters

By Leslie Sesler

Dexter Gill believes that ARPA, the
Archaeological Resources Protection
Act, should be revisited (Four CornersFree Press, January 2017). That may be a
good idea. But first, a little history and
background seems to be in order, so that
we can all understand what we are talking
about.

The history of archeological and historical
preservation in the United States
began in the early 1800s, when a number
of historical associations led the effort
to save Independence Hall in Philadelphia,
an icon of our American Revolution,
from demolition. In 1853, the
Mount Vernon Ladies Association of
the Union organized to save the home
of George Washington. When a petition
to Congress failed to generate federal interest
in preservation, the group raised
private funds and purchased Mount Vernon
themselves.

A decade later, a group of local citizens
began taking steps to preserve
the Civil War battlefield at Gettysburg.
In 1864, this group was granted a state
charter to act as the Gettysburg Battlefield
Memorial Association, with 522
acres set aside as a memorial. One of
the reasons Civil War battlefields such as
Gettysburg are so well-preserved, that
so much is known about the momentous
events that transpired there is that
the citizens of the surrounding communities
took steps to preserve the physical
remains, the landscape, and the local
knowledge of place that is so important
to understanding this terrible era of U.S.
history.

The Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial
Association dissolved after about 15
years, due primarily to financial burdens,
and the memorial was turned over to the
federal government under the care of
the War Department. The government
attempted to acquire land in addition
to the original 522 acres that had been
preserved (troop movements during the
battle covered as much as 15,000 acres;
the government wanted to acquire about
4,000 acres for preservation).

The problem was that Gettysburg, and
nearly all Civil War battles, were fought
on private land, and some landowners
disputed the government’s authority to
condemn private property for such use.
The first lawsuit against the federal government’s
attempt to condemn land for
a battle memorial was filed by the Gettysburg
Electric Railway, who built a rail
line through the center of the battlefield,
despite objections from veterans and
other interested
citizens. The Supreme
Court
ruled in favor of
the federal government.
The
ruling, “United
States Government v Gettysburg Electric
Railway Co.,” has been cited countless
times since as a precedent in federal
condemnation actions, and serves as the
basis for the Antiquities Act.

The court said the preservation of our
national heritage was in the best interests
of the public, “for the benefit of all
the citizens of the country for the present
and for the future. Such a use seems
necessarily not only a public use, but one
so closely connected with the welfare of
the republic itself as to be within the
powers granted Congress by the Constitution
for the purpose of protecting and
preserving the whole country.”

I take the Supreme Court to mean
exactly what it said. That historic preservation
is for the benefit of all of the
citizens of this country, and by extension,
that includes the preservation of
all of its citizen’s history, including Native
American prehistory.

Ten years after the Supreme Court ruling,
Congress enacted the Antiquities Act
of 1906. It provided for the protection
of historic and prehistoric remains and
monuments on federal lands by establishing
penalties for disturbance of antiquities,
gave the President authority to
declare historic landmarks, historic and
prehistoric structures, and other objects
of historic or scientific interest on federal
land as national monuments, and established
a permit system for conducting
scientific archaeological investigations.

By the 1960s it was apparent that the
penalties for looting and vandalism of
archaeological resources on federal land
established by the Antiquities Act — a
$500 fine and three-month maximum
jail sentence — were insufficient, and
that many archaeological sites were being
destroyed by such actions. (A study
conducted for Congress in the 1980s
documented that fully one-third of
known archaeological sites on federal
lands in the Four Corners states had
been damaged by looting or vandalism).

There was also concern by the public
over destruction of historic and prehistoric
resources as a result of government-
sponsored public-works projects
and development. Congress began to
rectify this situation in the 1960s. The
1966 National Historic Preservation
Act (NHPA) is the most comprehensive
legislation, and requires, among other
things, that historic and cultural properties
are appropriately considered in planning
any action involving federal land,
federal money, or federal minerals.

The Archaeological Resources Protection
Act (ARPA) was passed in 1979.
As amended in 1988, ARPA significantly
strengthens the penalties for looting and
vandalism of archaeological sites on
public and Indian tribal lands and places
important protection and management
responsibilities on federal agencies. In
a general sense, antiquities legislation
requires artifacts, structures, and culturally
produced features to be preserved in
place, where their makers and builders
left them, whenever possible.

In order for an agency to manage a resource,
any resource, they must have an
idea of what the resource entails. That
is why archaeological inventory is done
for any development action that occurs
on federal lands, such as timber sales
on Forest Service lands, or gas and oil
leases on BLM lands. These inventories
are typically paid for by industry, who
is reaping profit from public resources,
and not by taxpayers.

And yes, archaeological inventory
does include historic items such as old
tin cans. Archaeological resources are
assessed according to certain criteria established
by the NHPA, as to whether
or not a particular archaeological site
is eligible for the National Register of
Historic Places. Archaeological sites assessed
as eligible need to be protected
from development or have other measures
set in place to mitigate the damage
or destruction of such sites. Sites that
are not eligible for the National Register,
and this would include most of the
tin cans that Mr. Gill is worried about,
do not qualify for any special protection
measures.

Archaeological resources are finite.
No more PaleoIndian camps are being
created; no more Ancestral Puebloan
cliff dwellings are being built; no more
15th century Ute wickiups or 16th century
Navajo hogans or 18th century
pueblitos are being constructed. Archaeological
sites are lost to natural deterioration
and erosional forces every
day, and are damaged by natural events
such as wildfire; they are lost to development
on private land; and sadly, despite
laws protecting cultural and historical
resources on public land, destruction is
still occurring in the form of looting and
vandalism.

Archaeology is a resource. What Mr.
Gill does not understand is that the use
of resources does not necessarily imply
consumption. Take his family’s Sunday
afternoon gambol on BLM land to
search for “arrowheads”. (We do hope
that none of them ended up pocketing
their pretties, as that would be thieving
from the rest of us). They were undoubtedly
using archaeological resources for
entertainment. The desert Southwest
is one of the few places on the planet
where anyone can wander around on
public land and look at archaeological
sites for days and days, free of charge.
Mr. Gill insinuates that this is all a thing
of the past – that people can no longer
access public land for public enjoyment.
This is simply not true. Sure, there are
roads that have been closed and maybe
you can no longer just drive anywhere
you please. But these restrictions, and
they are certainly not everywhere, are on
vehicles: four-wheel drives, four-wheelers,
side-by-sides, motorbikes, etc., not
people. Corporations may be people,
but as far as I know, vehicles are not
people. And unfortunately, some of the
road closures are related to destruction
of archaeological sites by careless off-roaders
and those that use vehicles to
carry their pot-hunting gear into remote
archaeological sites.

Archaeological resources are also used
in other ways that benefit our community.
Take Mesa Verde National Park. This
World Heritage Site draws hundreds of
thousands of visitors from around the
world who spend money here. The park
is one of the biggest employers in the
county. Its existence is eminently tied to
the Antiquities Act.

There are many other archaeological treasures in the immediate area that
entice visitors to stay longer, maybe buy
dinner, or spend another night. Places
such as Hovenweep National Monument,
Lowry Ruins, and oh, yeah, and
that other one, NO National Monument,
otherwise known as Canyons of
the Ancients.

And then there is the Anasazi Heritage
Center, a by-product of the Dolores Archeological
Program, a multi-year, multimillion-
dollar research project associated
with the construction of McPhee Dam.
Due to that persnickety antiquities legislation,
action was required to mitigate
the destruction of hundreds of archaeological
sites that dam construction would
require. The project brought hundreds
of archaeologists and millions of dollars
into Dolores and the surrounding communities.
And yes, most of these people
were young college graduates who
needed jobs. The Dolores Archaeological
Program had a mandate to hire local
young people. For two summers, dozens
of local youth were hired and trained to
work on archaeological survey and excavation
crews, and as lab technicians,
under the auspices of the Youth Conservation
Corps and the Young Adult
Conservation Corps. (That is where my
nearly 40-year career in archaeology began.
A real, live government program
success story!)

The Dolores Archaeological Program
and subsequent projects related to the
water produced many thick scientific
volumes for scholars to ponder, and
other worthwhile results: advancements
in archaeological methods and theory,
identification of the growth and demise
of prehistoric communities at McPhee
and Grass Mesa, and drawings and documentation
of historic structures that
were ultimately destroyed by McPhee
Reservoir.

The Dolores Archaeological Program
and related archeological projects also
brought more tangible, if less visible,
benefits. Many of those young archaeologists
chose Montezuma County as the
place where they wanted to raise their
families. Many remained in the archaeological
profession. Several started their
own consulting businesses, drawing
more archaeologists into the area. Some
went to work for Mesa Verde National
Park. And many became researchers and
educators at Crow Canyon, a not-forprofit
archaeological research and education
organization. Crow Canyon brings
many people into our area for hands-on
experience; they provide amazing educational
opportunities for students; they
partner with Native Americans to create
a more accurate and respectful connection
between the past and present; and
they are on the cutting edge of archaeological
research.

Archaeologists are some of the movers,
shakers, and doers of our community.
If you attend any community event
anywhere in the county, it is likely that
archaeologists or former archaeologists
will be there in support. Walk into any
restaurant in Cortez for dinner, and an
archaeologist will probably be there.

Preservation of our archaeological
resources, which are uniquely visible
and uniquely accessible, as compared to
much of the world, has been and will
be a key to our economic viability. The
Archaeological Resources Protection
Act and other antiquities legislation has
been of significant benefit to the Four
Corners region, protecting a valuable resource
that we can proudly share with
the rest of the world.